Payment in Kind
by xkcdav
Summary: 17 year old Rosalie Hale has lived a charmed life since she was 9, but when a new family moves to Forks Rose is confronted with a past she's been trying to forget and with people who show her how much even the ones we love can change. AH AU, ExB AxJ EmxR
1. Bella

**A/N: This story centers on Rosalie, and while I tried to keep her in character, it's an AU AH story, and she's experienced different things in different ways from Stephenie Meyer's Rosalie. Her relationships with other characters, for example, might be a little different at first than canon Rosalie's relationships. This story is eventually EmxR, AxJ, ExB, though.  
**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters, I just own the plot.**

"Rosalie."

I looked up from the history book I was reading. "Oh, hey Edward."

_"__Finally," _I added silently. My brother had collapsed face down on my bed ten minutes ago, after coming home from basketball practice. I was washing the quilt today—otherwise I would never have let him get away with it—still, something must be bothering him if he would risk facing my fury over the quilt at all.

"Something wrong?" I asked, keeping my voice light. Edward is one of those people who would rather eat paste than let people know they're upset over anything. He says he doesn't want to bother anyone; I think he's being stupid and masochistic. Chivalry is dead.

He buried his head in the blanket in response. Shrugging, I turned back to history. It _is_ unlike him to confide in people, though I think I would be that person if he decided to talk to anyone at all. Still the chances of that happening in the first place are small at best.

"Rosalie."

"What?" I asked a little annoyed now. I gave him a chance to respond before, didn't I?

"I think…" he hesitated then, taking in a deep breath. "I think I might have a crush."

Well this was new.

"You think you might have a crush?" I repeated, a little bemused. Edward had never liked anyone before. A few of the kids at school actually thought he was gay; I knew better. He was most definitely asexual. At least, he was before this 'crush'. I had never heard Edward sound so unsure before…maybe he really did like someone?

"Well, how do you feel when you're around her?" I asked him practically.

…

"Edward?"

…

"It is a _her_, right?"

"Yes!" he protested then, looking up with an annoyed expression.

"Because, there's nothing wrong if you—"

"Rosalie!"

"Well, I wasn't sure. You weren't answering me."

"Because I don't know if what I'm going to say will sound like I have a crush on her or not!" he burst out.

"Well, duh. That's why you're talking to _me_."

"No, you don't understand," he said desperately, his too-long bronze hair falling over his eyes as he shook his head. "When I saw her…I felt…I got a weird feeling in my stomach, like it was tied in knots. And when she tripped, and I caught her, my heartbeat sped up and my head felt like it was spinning. Then she thanked me and walked away and I _blushed_. I actually blushed, Rosalie!" he groaned and buried his head under my pillow.

This was too funny.

"Well, it definitely sounds like a crush, Edward," I said, biting the inside of my cheek. He'd never tell me anything again if I giggled now.

He groaned and pounded his head against the bed. If he ruined the mattress, I would kill him.

"What?" I asked, annoyed.

"When she left after I caught her, some blond guy came and wrapped his arm around her waist and said something in her ear," he mumbled.

My giggles immediately disappeared. "Oh, Edward," I said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

He pulled his head out from under the pillow. "It's fine," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine. Thanks for listening, Rose."

"Edward, stop it," I said, getting really annoyed now. "It's okay for you to be disappointed. You can't help who you like."

He just shook his head. "It's better for me to forget about her."

I couldn't argue with him there…it would only hurt more if he kept thinking about her. "Okay. But don't beat yourself up, please. You get so moody and the piano gets out of tune from all the playing."

Edward laughed a little then. "Like you don't do your fair share of that."

"Hey, Esme's my mother," I pointed out. "It'd be blasphemy if I didn't play."

"True," Edward laughed. "And I suppose the fact that Emmett likes to hear you play doesn't have anything to do with it."

I pictured ice, snowballs, falling into the frozen lake last year when I was ice skating—anything to keep my cheeks from flaming up. "Emmett's my best friend."

"Yeah," Edward laughed, "that's right. You two are most definitely _best_ friends."

"Yes," I said, looking at him suspiciously. Edward always seemed to know more about things than he let on, but I wasn't sure what he was hinting at right now.

"Excuse me if we're not _all_ tortured musicians," I grumbled. "Some of us actually have friends who like the piano."

"I have friends," Edward said in a too-innocent voice. "Look who I was playing basketball with just now."

"Mike Newton doesn't count, Edward."

Edward laughed again, and this time I could see his point. Mike Newton had been trying to ask me out for years; ever since he found out that Emmett and I were just friends he had been following me around, trying to get my number. I had to talk to him, (Edward would kill me if I caused any strain between his precious teammates) but that didn't mean I had to like him.

My phone rang then, and I glared at a still-laughing Edward before I looked at the caller ID to see Emmett's face smiling back up at me. He had taken that stupid picture on one of the last snow days of the school year, and with his curly hair half frosted over and a black eye (the idiot had decided to dive into a snow bank without realizing that it was covering half a fallen tree) he looked like frosty the demented snow man.

"Hey, Rosie," he said as soon as I opened the phone. "I just wanted to tell you that I can't come over today; my mom's helping some friend of her's unpack. They just moved into a house a couple streets down from me."

"Oh," I said, a little disappointed. "So, no Friday night movie? Edward rented Scary Movie 4."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he said, "but I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come and help? Alice said they have two kids, a daughter and a nephew or something."

"Oh," I said. I debated: spending the night with a sulky Edward hogging the piano, or helping a strange family move boxes?

"Sure," I said. "What time should I meet you?"

"I'll pick you up in five," he said. "Make Edward come too, I saw what happened with that girl today."

"Okay, I'll try," I said.

Hanging up the phone, I called out to Edward, who had gone to practice in the music room. "Edward! Emmett wants us to help some new family move boxes into their garage. Be ready in five minutes, or I'll keep pressing that E key that goes flat after you play it too many times."

"Rosalie!" Edward cried out to me, frustrated.

"Four minutes, thirty seconds, Edward." Harsh reality is the only way to get the 'Phantom of the Opera' to shut up.

Ten minutes later, Edward, Emmett and I were parking Emmett's enormous jeep in the driveway of an ordinary, two-story brownstone about three blocks away from mine. Emmett pulled open the front door—apparently his mom and sister, Alice, were already there and had told him to just walk in—and we were met with the sight of a pretty girl with long brown hair looking at us with a slightly uncertain smile on her face.

"Hi," she said, holding out a hand. "You must friends of Anne's. I'm Bella."

"Hi Bella, I said, shaking her hand. "I'm Rosalie, and these are Emmett, Anne's son, and Edward, my brother."

I stepped aside so Bella could see Edward clearly, who was hiding behind me for some reason, and heard a small gasp. Bella was staring at Edward, her cheeks a bright strawberry red, and Edward was looking down, scuffing the toe of his sneaker on the floor. I glanced at Emmett, only to find him looking from Bella to Edward with a slightly awed expression, and then he mouthed the words "that's her!" at me once he caught my eye.

Oh, I thought, everything falling into place all of a sudden. Bella was this mystery girl that Edward had fallen for in the park, and Edward was…why was Bella staring at him like that when she had a boyfriend?

Suddenly, I didn't like this Bella girl very much.

**A/N: Review please! The more I know about what people think about this story, the better it will be.**


	2. An Unexpected Meeting

Author Note: Sorry this took so long; there was a slight confusion with my beta reader. I have the next chapter written though, so it should be up soon.

**An Unexpected Meeting**

**RPOV**

After a long, awkward silence during which Edward kept staring at the ground and trying to wear a hole into his shoe, Emmett started snickering loudly under his breath. Bella finally snapped out of her stunned state at the noise and invited us upstairs. She showed us the house, which had a floor plan almost exactly like mine. The only difference was that in Bella's house, the master bedroom was on the right side of the house, with the other bedrooms much farther away on the left.

"I got lucky, and Jazz let me have the best view," Bella explained, opening the boxes we were supposed to be helping unpack. "There are these two really big oak trees in our front yard—you probably saw them when you came in—and one of the branches kind of blocks part of my window, but the rest of the way is clear to let in lots of sunlight. I love the sun. He was really nice about it too—especially since his bedroom faces the side of the house next to us."

"Who's Jazz?" Emmett asked. I snorted. I wasn't interested in anything this little Barbie doll had to say. Not after she hurt my brother, anyway, intentionally or not. Bella probably didn't even realize how much she had hurt him with her flirting. She probably flirted with everyone—Emmett was going to be next. Well, if she tried anything on him…Emmett's my best friend; there's no way I was going to let her sink her talons into him, too.

"My cousin," Bella answered, flinging her long hair and almost whipping me across the face with it as she turned to look at Emmett. Pathetic. "He's really my second cousin, I think, but we sort of grew up together. I've known him ever since I was seven and we moved to New York."

"And he lives with you now?" Emmett asked, seeming completely oblivious to Bella's pitiful attempt at guile.

"Yeah," Bella said. "His parents died about six months ago, in a car crash. Jazz was pretty shocked, of course, and he didn't want to leave Rochester, so it just made sense for him to move in with us, since we were already so close and everything. Then when Dad got this job, he came with us."

"Oh," Emmett said, surprised. "Rochester, NY? Isn't that where you're from, Rosie?"

"Yes," I ground out from between my teeth. This day was going from bad to worse. Not only had some girl-next-door Barbie doll broken my brother's heart, she was also flirting with my best friend. And on top of it all, I was going to have to explain how I came to live in Forks with Esme and Carlisle instead of in Rochester with my own parents.

"You two are from Rochester?" Bella asked, interested. She looked at Edward questioningly. Of course, ask Edward. Never mind that I'm the one Emmett was talking about, not him. Be predictable; ask the only other person in the room you can flirt with.

"No," he said, finally speaking as his cheeks turned a bright, flaming red. "Rosalie is from Rochester. Our parents adopted her when she moved to Forks eight years ago."

"Oh," Bella said, looking surprised. "That's funny; Jazz's sister was—"

"Where are Anne and Alice?" I asked, desperate to get the conversation away from anything concerning Rochester and my childhood.

"Um," Bella said, "I think they're out in the backyard, actually, setting up the patio furniture with my Dad."

"I'll go help them!" I said a little too exuberantly, desperate to get away from all things concerning both Bella and my past. "Here, Edward, why don't you help Bella finish unpacking the boxes up here, and Emmett and I will go see if they need our help downstairs." I said, grabbing Emmett's arm and dragging him down the stairs with me.

***

**EPOV**

Ordinarily, I wouldn't complain about being left alone to unpack boxes with the girl of my dreams in her very isolated bedroom. Of course, I never thought that the girl of my dreams would turn out to have a boyfriend who looked like he wouldn't be carded at a bar. I seriously doubt that he's going to attend Forks High—he looks way too old to be Rosalie or Emmett's age. Maybe he knew Bella in Rochester and transferred to Washington State when she moved—

"Edward?" I looked up.

Bella smiled. "Thanks for doing this," she said. "I know you must have better things to do on a Friday night than help me unpack my room."

As if there was anyone else I'd want to spend my time with. "No, really, I don't mind. I'm enjoying it."

Bella raised an eyebrow. "Really? There's got to be loads of other things you'd rather do—hang out with friends, or a girlfriend or something."

"I don't have a girlfriend," I said unthinkingly. Great. Now she's going to volunteer information about the blonde guy she was attached to this afternoon.

"Are you going to go to Forks High?" I blurted out, trying to avoid the subject of significant others.

"Yea, I think so. It's the only high school in the area, isn't it?" she asked.

"Um, I think so. There's a high school at La Push, but you wouldn't go there," I said, blushing again. I was an idiot. Forks was ridiculously small; where else _could_ she go to school?

"La Push?" Bella asked. "Isn't that the Indian Reservation?"

"Yeah, they have a school we play basketball against sometimes," I said.

"You play basketball?"

"Yes. I'm a 1."

"What?"

"Sorry," I said. Of course she doesn't know what a 1 is! "I meant a point guard."

Bella bit her lip, and I gulped. "I don't really know much about basketball. I probably should, since Jasper plays, and I've been going to his games forever, but most sports just sort of…go over my head."

I turned, and started hurriedly putting books away on Bella's shelves, trying not to stare at her teeth nibbling on her full lower lip. "Who's Jasper?" Her boyfriend?

"Oh," Bella sounded startled, and I looked over at her to see her glancing frantically at the books I was shelving. "Jasper is Jazz's full name. I've always called him Jazz; it's just that no one else does, so I guess I've slipped into the habit of using both names."

"Oh." So not the boyfriend, then. I really had to stop thinking about him. "A point guard is kind of like the…manager of the offence side of a game, I guess. They remember the plays, and make sure the right players have the ball at the right times."

"Oh," Bella said, looking faintly…impressed? "So you're like the team captain."

"I wouldn't go that far…Emmett's actually team captain. We've only got one team at our school, so he's Varsity captain and starting center. That's the guy who makes all the long shots and stuff."

"Wow," Bella really looked impressed this time. "So you guys must be pretty important, then."

"Um…I guess. Emmett's really more into that stuff than I am."

Bella giggled, and I felt my stomach twist in knots. "Jazz avoids that stuff too. It's weird. He's always been really quiet, and half the girls at our school thought he was the 'dreamy, mysterious type.' It was really funny to see them come over to our house to work on projects, or something, and throw themselves at Jazz while he kept ignoring them."

I laughed a little. Poor guy… "There's a guy on my basketball team who's always all over Rosalie. He follows her around like a lost puppy. It's hilarious to watch them together, because Rose always looks ready to boil the kid alive and he's completely clueless."

Bella smiled, and leaned against her wall to look out the window. "Jazz is home," she said suddenly. "I can see his car pulling up. Come on, I want you to meet him!" She ran down the stairs, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her. I followed, too shocked to do anything else. Emmett was going to tease me mercilessly when he saw what I'm sure was an incredibly stupid smile on my face, but I didn't care. Bella was holding my hand.

***

**RPOV**

I dragged Emmett down the stairs, completely focused on getting out of Bella's room as fast as possible. She was so _annoying_, with her blushing and her ranting about her brother. I don't rant about Edward, do I? And Alice is the last person who's going to rant about Emmett.

"Rose, what are you doing?" Emmett asked, wrenching his hand away from mine once we were off the stairs. "I _liked_ talking to Bella, and I don't think it's fair to leave Edward all alone with her in there. You saw his face."

I sighed. Emmett really was too big a softy for his own good sometimes. "He'll be fine, Emmett. He's a big boy. On the other hand, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from punching Bella if we had stayed in there for five more minutes."

"Why?" Emmet looked incredulous. "She's so nice. And she's from Rochester; I don't get why you aren't up there trying to find out if you have any common friends or anything. It's not like it was a big town, from what you told me. And you were so upset when you came here; you said you missed all your old friends and stuff. Maybe she knows how they're doing."

I was livid. Emmett had _not_ just suggested that I go up there and bond with Bella about my past, had he? "What the hell? Are you seriously suggesting I go up there and bond with the Barbie doll that broke my brother's heart and then started flirting with my best friend right in front of me? We could have been dating for all she knew! And she was just shamelessly dancing in front of you, flipping her hair back and forth…"

Emmett looked at me confusedly. "Rosie, she wasn't flirting. I don't get why you hate her so much, but we both know it isn't because she was flirting with me. She was just being friendly. And even if she was flirting, you never get upset when Lauren or Jessica or any of those bimbos flirt with me at school. You laugh. Sometimes you even give them my phone number, if you're annoyed with me about something."

"Well maybe I should e-mail your number out to the entire student body, because right now I'm FURIOUS." I spat. "How can you actually _like_ her?"

"Because she's smart, kind, and has a sense of humor, from what I've seen." Emmett said simply. "And I don't know what your problem is, but you better pull it together Rosalie. Because I'm not going to stand by while you insult someone who's been nothing but nice to you since we met her."

"Fine," I seethed. "If that's the way you want it, go hang out with _her_, for all I care! Go to car shows with _her_. Ask _her_ to fix your jeep when the radiator hose starts leaking, or the spark plugs come loose. Watch stupid scary movies with _her_."

"Rosalie," Emmett said, looking me in the eye. "That's not my point. This isn't about replacing my best friend; it's about getting you to function like a normal human being around Bella. Or at the very least, getting you to stop dragging me down with you."

I blinked back angry tears. I was _dragging Emmett down with me_?!?!?!?

"Rosie—" Emmett began, walking towards me, but I pushed him away as we heard a car pull up in the driveway. There was no way that was our ride—Esme knew we would call when we were ready. She couldn't have sent Carlisle for Edward and I so soon, could she?

Bella came pounding down the stairs then. She tripped on the stairs—she definitely was klutz—and would have fallen if Edward hadn't caught her. And that stupid, masochistic chivalry habit of his strikes again. What is it with this stupid devotion he and Emmett seem to have to Klutzilla?

"Jazz!" Bella shrieked, running to the door after thanking Edward and blushing strawberry-red again. The tall, blonde guy in the doorway—really, he looked about twenty with his height—picked her up and swung her around.

"Hey, Bells," He said, smiling and putting her down. Now that I could see his face, he looked much younger—sixteen or seventeen, maybe. So this must have been Bella's cousin, or brother or whatever. He looked a bit familiar—I must have seen him around somewhere.

Bella smiled. "Jazz, this is Edward," She said, taking his hands and pulling him over to my brother.

Edward looked shocked. I watched his eyes get bigger and his cheeks darken when, finally, an enormous grin broke out on his face and he took Jazz's hand, shaking it heartily. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Jasper. Bella has told me so much about you."

Jasper? A flood of memories immediately came to mind with the name, but I brushed them off. My imagination was running away with me.

The guy—Jazz, Jasper, whatever—smiled and hugged Bella a little closer to his side. "I hope she didn't bore you too much."

Next to me, Emmet was muttering under his breath. "Oh, so I guess Bella wasn't going out with that guy after all—Edward looks pathetic, man, he's already whipped and he hasn't even asked the girl out yet. Then again, she is really sweet—not to mention hot—so I guess it's worth it for something like that—"

Furious, I jabbed him in the ribs. Ignoring the squeals of "Ow!" that filled the room, I turned purposely away from the big oaf and his fantasy, and in the direction of the sliding glass door that looked like it led to the backyard. Alice would distract me.

"Rosalie, wait!" Bella called. "I want to introduce you to Jazz."

Spinning around, I glanced angrily at the tall boy in the middle of the room, who still had one arm wrapped loosely around Bella's waist. "Rosalie Hale," I said, sticking out my hand and not really looking at his face.

He didn't say anything; just continued to stand there and stare at me.

Furious, I glared up into his deep blue eyes. This was too much—first, this kid caused my brother's heart to be torn into pieces over nothing, then he reminded me of people and places I'd spent eight years trying to forget, and now he wouldn't even shake my hand like a normal person!

Finally, he choked a little and said, "Rosie?"

My heart stopped. No one—no one besides Emmett, at least—had called me Rosie since I came to Forks.

"What did you call me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. There was no way this guy was the person I thought he was. My imagination was running away with me again…after all, I'd had flashbacks of the night before I left Rochester for years; my mind was probably just taking things a little farther than usual.

"Rosie," He said again, looking me in the eyes with more confidence now. "Full name Rosalie Lillian Hale. Born June 30th, 1988, in Rochester, NY."

I took a few steps back. Edward came and stood beside me, grabbing my hand reassuringly. I twined my fingers into his tightly.

"Jasper?" I asked softly, looking up again into those clear eyes. If I was right, then the last time I had seen those eyes they had been red and tear-filled, begging me not to leave him.

"Yes," He said evenly, looking at me with less warmth now. "Interesting to see you again, Rosalie."

Bella looked back and forth between Jasper and me with a slightly puzzled, almost disbelieving expression on her face. Thank goodness she had finally let go of his waist. "You two…do you know each other?"

"Yes," Jasper said in a cool, almost emotionless tone. "Rosalie was my sister."


	3. Jazz

**A/N: Thanks to An End Has A Start for betaing this! And thank you all my wonderful reviewers--you inspire me to keep writing this story.**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters, I just own the plot.**

**Chapter 3**

RPOV

"Was?" Emmett, Edward, Bella and I asked, the others confused, while I was horrified.

I was in shock. _Jasper_ was here…and Bella was wrapping her arms around him, like she was trying to comfort him. Like something had happened to make him _need_ comfort.

"Why am I not your sister anymore?" I asked Jasper.

"You're his sister in the first place?" Emmett asked, looking dumbstruck. Edward kicked him to tell him to shut up.

"Jasper?" I asked, taking a few steps towards him. Bella backed up a little, keeping her arms around Jasper's waist so he stumbled backwards with her.

"You left," Jasper said, looking at me with maddeningly calmness. "You left the night Royce announced his engagement, and you ran away to Forks so you didn't have to—"

He never got the words out. I jumped at him too fast for that.

"JAZZ!" Bella shrieked, terrified, as I lunged towards my brother, ready to punch every inch of him I could reach for even daring to _think_ of mentioning his name, to _suggest_ that I left because of him, to even _hint_ at the idea—"

"EMMETT, PUT ME DOWN!" I screamed when I felt my waist being caught in midair by two strong arms, and then pulled down level with Emmett. He and Edward both put their arms around me, the former in restraint, the latter in comfort.

"Jazz, come on," Bella pleaded, trying desperately to get her 'cousin' further away from us—further away from _me_, his sister. Jasper, my baby brother who used to ask me to read him stories at night and who used to chase me around the yard with a soccer ball, trying to get me to play with him.

I collapsed then, burying my head in Edward's shoulder as I tried to hide the sobs that were threatening to burst out. I didn't want this to be happening—I didn't want Jasper to hate me for leaving, I didn't want to have to think about Royce—I didn't want Bella to be acting like Jasper's sister, hugging him the way I should have been doing, comforting him when _our_ parents had died—oh my god, my parents were dead…

I started bawling then, completely soaking Edward's jacket as he tried to sooth me, shushing me as I continued to cry loudly into his shoulder.

"Rose," he murmured, stroking my hair as I buried my face further into his neck, my arms curling against my chest as he patted my back gently. "Rose, calm down," he whispered. "It's going to be alright. Jasper will understand—"

I shook my head violently, indicating that it wasn't Jasper's reaction I was crying about.

"He _will_, you'll see—" Edward continued a bit desperately. "He'll understand, we'll ex—"

I just kept shaking my head violently, trying to make him see that it wasn't _Jasper_ that had me so torn up, it was the fact that I would never talk to my parents again, never hear my mother call me her angel or my father call me Rosebud, never walk through my mother's rose garden, her pride and joy and the only thing besides her family that she would never give up…

"Not…him," I managed to choke out in a half strangled whisper as I kept my face tightly pressed against Edward's neck.

"Then what is it?" he asked, a little frantically. He wasn't used to me breaking down like this.

"My—my parents are—are _dead_," I said, breaking into a fresh round of sobs. "I never even got the chance to _see_—" the sobs cut off anything more I had to say.

Edward said nothing. He had even given up trying to get me to stop crying, he just let me hang there, ruining his shirt with my tears.

"Here," I heard Emmett say quietly to Edward. He reached down, and I felt myself being moved from Edward's shoulder to Emmett's. His arms encircled me, and he rubbed my back softly, letting me cry into his chest as I worked through all the information I had been given in the last twenty minutes.

"Go get Alice," Emmett whispered to Edward. I heard footsteps running towards the sliding door at the back of the room, and I buried myself further into Emmett's embrace.

I felt safe there.

* * *

BPOV

This was a soap opera.

First there was Jazz, whom I had never heard talk about his sister with anything but the utmost adoration. He _worshiped_ her as a child, and even though he hadn't said much about "Rosie" since we were about ten or eleven, I was sure that was one attachment that hadn't disappeared with time. He never seemed to want to talk about why she left, and my parents didn't know. Or at least, that was what my mother had said every time I asked her. I hadn't inherited my inability to lie from her, though, so I could never be quite sure.

Slowly, I turned Jasper so that he was facing me instead of watching his sister sob on Emmett's shoulder, and I felt my stomach drop at the sight of his grief-stricken face. Jazz had always been the one to comfort _me_ through my tears or horrors, the one who calmed me down after nightmares when I was little and we had sleepovers, or bandaged up my scraped knees and elbows after I tried to follow him and his friends somewhere and ended up falling down and hurting myself. The only time I had ever seen him truly upset was when we found out about his parents.

"Jazz," I said softly, taking a few steps onto the staircase and pulling him into my arms when we were roughly the same height. He didn't say anything, or sob like Rosalie—but then, he'd always had excellent control of his emotions—just put his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder, almost as if he were too tired to do much else." Jazz, let's go upstairs," I urged softly.

I didn't want him to have to stay down here and pretend for Edward and Emmett and whoever else Emmett had sent Edward to get (probably someone who could calm Rosalie down). I just wanted to be able to give him the chance to process things, to work through everything. Even my head was reeling, and I wasn't the one who had been reunited with my long-lost sister who abandoned me when I was eight in our family room.

I took Jasper's hands, and gently pulled him up the stairs into my room, knowing my mother would look there first and, hopefully, be understanding enough to leave us alone for awhile. It was hard to tell with her, though.

Jazz followed me up, and together we collapsed on my bed. It was just barely big enough for him when we lay down on it properly, and lying sideways, even my feet were hanging off the tiny double mattress. Jazz was stretched out diagonally, his arm under my head, staring off into space. Or actually, staring at my ceiling. I hadn't finished the sunset I was painting on it yet, so the white surface was filled with seemingly random streaks of oranges and pinks and purples and blues, waiting for the finishing touches that would turn it into something beautiful to wake up to in the morning when the light played off it. I needed all the beauty I could get in the morning.

I turned my head so I was looking at Jazz, and pulled his chin so that his blue eyes were locked on my brown ones instead of the orange streaks across my ceiling. After a minute of waiting for him to say something, I spoke. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jazz kept looking in my direction, not really seeing anything, it seemed.

"Jazz?"

Slowly, he shook his head, and turned back to the purple and pink streaks on the ceiling. I sighed, and rested my head on his chest under his chin. That was Jazz. I would never be able to get him to talk if he didn't want to. I had never been able to.

* * *

"Jazz!" The little eight-year-old girl ran to her best friend and cousin, who was sitting on the edge of the brick wall that lined his backyard. His house was old, and the wall had been built by the original owners, an older couple who thought of their roses as children. Antique rose bushes still lined the walls, all carefully cared for by his mother, who loves the roses almost as much as she loves her son.

"Jazz, Mom said I could take art lessons!" she squealed, thrilled with her good fortune. "She's letting me take lessons at the Academy with Carmen! I get to use watercolors and oil paint and everything!" The little girl climbed up onto the three-foot high wall with some difficulty, scowling when the boy made no move to help her.

"What wrong, Jazz? Why aren't you excited?" She asked, poking her companion in the arm. She pouted a little at his lack of response. The little boy just sat there, shredding a half-dead rose into small pieces that he let fall to the floor of the garden.

"Jazz?" The nine-year-old boy just hopped off the wall and began wending his way through the rose bushes, not even glancing back at his friend. Huffing a little, she climbed off the wall, carefully so as not to trip, and ran after him. "Jazz, why won't you talk to me? Did I do something wrong?" Her brown eyes started to fill up with tears, and the little boy just shook his head, gave her a little half smile, and ran his finger under her eyes to catch any moisture that had gathered there. He let the remaining rose petals from his flower fall into her palms, and left her with ten perfect shell-pink petals that gave off a delicious perfume, the kind her mother always said she would bottle if she could.

Walking a little more slowly now that she was sure Jazz wasn't going to talk to her, the little girl climbed up the broad wooden steps of the deck and went into the kitchen where her mother and aunt were working.

"Hi Bells," Her mother said, just as her aunt smiled at her. "Hello Bella," Her aunt said as she bent down and gave Bella a hug. "Do you want a snack? I just made some cookies."

Bella shook her head, and she looked down at her feet. "Is Jazz mad at me? He won't talk to me at all, and I don't know why." Bella bit her lip.

"Oh, no sweetheart," Her aunt said kindly as her mother looked at the pair of them interestedly. "Jazz is just a little upset right now. His school had basketball tryouts, and Jazz didn't make the team. You know how hard he's been practicing for it lately."

Bella gasped. "Jazz didn't make the team? But he's so good! And he's been practicing so hard for it!" Her aunt smiled sadly.

"Yes, but he's only been playing for a little while yet, and some of the other boys have been playing quite a bit longer than Jasper," She said softly. "I think he just needs some more practice. He can try out again in the spring."

"Oh," Bella looked up at her aunt, her brown eyes huge. "But why won't he talk to _me_?"

"I imagine he doesn't want to talk to anyone just yet, sweetheart," her aunt said. "Why don't you take him a plate of these cookies? You can share them in his room." Bella smiled. Her mother _never_ let her eat cookies in her room. "Thanks Aunt Lillian!" Bella chirped, picking up the plate and dashing off as fast as she could without breaking it, afraid her mother would stop her before she could get to Jasper's room. She could hear their laughter behind her, and Bella smiled.

Everything would be alright.

**A/N: Hope you liked it!**

**Although I do have an excellent beta, she is really busy with school and such, so if anyone out there likes this story enough to beta it, I'd be really grateful. Plus, having two betas would help me improve this story even more. **

**Review. :)  
**


	4. Cookies

**A/N: Okay, guys, sorry I took so long! I had a huge case of writer's block. I really wanted to have Alice's POV in this chapter, but I guess it'll be in the next one because nothing I wrote was working out. This chapter has not been beta'd, so forgive me any mistakes. I really wanted to get it out to you as soon as I could. Thanks again to all my wonderful reviewers; you really are the reason I keep writing this story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Stephenie Meyer's characters; just the plot they're playing with right now.**

BPOV

I don't really know where I'm going with this…

"Jasper."

…

"Jazz."

…

"Jazz, you can't ignore this forever."

Jasper still refused to look at me, keeping his stare on the ceiling and its weird medley of colors.

"We both know that my ceiling isn't that interesting."

…

"Could you at least talk to me?"

…

"Jasper!" I pulled at his hand, trying to get him to at least stand up and _look_ at me. "You can't do this anymore! It's been two days! We can't stay in this room together forever!"

He turned his gaze on me then, boring into me with those bright blue eyes. "You can leave."

"I _won't_ leave until you do!"

"Why?"

I gaped at him, confused. "What kind of question is that? You're my brother. Cousin. My best friend. Why would I leave if you weren't ready to come with me?"

He continued to look at me, with that same intense look in his eyes. "I'm not ready to come with you."

"Well, fine," I said, collapsing on the bed again with a soft _whoosh_. "I guess we're stuck here."

Why couldn't I ever win with him?

"But you can leave if you want to," Jasper continued, not looking at me anymore. "I don't need you to babysit me."

I turned my head away, stung. "I don't want to babysit you. But fine, if you want me to leave, I will."

I got up, keeping my head down so he wouldn't be able to see the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. "I'll see you later."

***

JPOV

I was being a jerk. I knew that.

But Bella just didn't _understand_. She didn't know how I was feeling right now. I couldn't explain it to her. I barely understood it myself.

And how can I expect Bella to be there for me, when I'm not even fully here myself right now? She needed to leave. It's better this way.

She'll be happier this way.

Seeing Rosalie again was more than a shock. I just can't believe that she's in _Forks_ of all places. My mother always refused to tell me where she went. Just that Rosalie didn't want to stay with us in Rochester anymore.

And _why_ did she have to leave? What could we have done? How was it possible that she was so hurt that she abandoned her family?

She didn't call. She didn't write. It was like she stopped existing.

Except much, much, more painful. Because everyone who ever met Rosalie in Rochester has, at some point, looked at me and sighed, "You look so much like your sister. She was a beauty. Do you know when she's coming back from boarding school?"

Yeah. Right. _Boarding school_. Of course.

Bella has never even realized what those comments have done to me. She doesn't realize how painful it's been to not even know _where_ my sister is, let alone not being able to see her. Not even when our parents died.

Bella tries, I know she does. But she just isn't my sister. She can't fill that gap in my life.

And I don't want Rosalie too. Not anymore. Too much time has passed.

I closed my eyes and rolled onto my side, facing the wall.

I'm not sure if this can work out.

***

BPOV

I stumbled down the stairs, coughing and scrubbing at my eyes, trying to keep the tears and sniffles to a minimum. I didn't want my mother to come home and find me sobbing uncontrollably.

I was looking at the ground, with my hair hanging over my eyes, so I didn't even notice that I had bumped into a person instead of a wall until two arms reached out and steadied me, holding onto my waist to keep me from falling backwards.

"Bella?"

I looked up, confused. I had definitely heard that velvety voice before…but what was he doing in my house?

"Edward?"

"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward asked urgently as he brushed my hair back from my tear-streaked face.

"What are you doing in my house?" I blurted out, too confused to answer his question.

Edward blushed. He seemed to do that a lot. "Rosalie, um, forgot her purse," he said. "I knocked and rang the bell, but no one answered and the door was wide open…"

"We were letting the paint dry," I said, remembering. "We painted the hall yesterday, and my mom left the door open this morning so that the fumes could get out. She was really excited that Forks is so small that we can actually leave our doors open without worrying about uninvited guests."

Edward chuckled. "Well, I guess I ruined that theory."

"You're not a bad uninvited guest." I said, wiping away the few tears that remained on my cheeks. "Do you want help finding Rosalie's purse?"

He held up the white, lacy thing hanging from his arm. "All set."

"Oh," I said, disappointed. I wanted him to stay.

"So…" Edward shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "Are you okay?"

"Oh," I said, "yeah. Thanks. I was just upset. Jazz is upstairs…and I haven't been able to get him to come down."

"Oh," Edward said, looking up at the staircase uneasily. "Has he been there since...?"

"Yeah," I said, a little more quietly. I liked Edward, but Jazz was my brother, and this was his story. Not mine.

"Rosalie hasn't left her room either," Edward said just as somberly. "I'm really worried. She hasn't acted like this in years."

I looked up at him. "Since she came to live with you, right?"

Edward looked surprised. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess." I looked down, disconcerted by the color of his eyes. They were so _green_. I had never seen anyone with truly emerald green eyes before.

"My mother's really worried," Edward continued. I looked up to see him staring at me, eyes boring into me the way Jazz's had earlier.

"She thinks that Rosalie needs to talk to Jasper again. So that they can both figure out what they're going to do now."

I bit my lip. "I'm not sure that Jazz wants to talk to Rosalie right now."

"But he should, don't you think? It will be good for both of them."

I started to get a little angry. This was _my_ brother he was talking about. Edward didn't know the first thing about Jazz. "I think we should let Jasper decide that. Not force a decision on him."

Edward's eyes softened a little. "Bella, I'm sorry. I'm just worried. Rosalie is my sister now, regardless of her parentage. I don't like to see her hurt like this."

"I understand, Edward. I'm worried too. And I know that my mother will probably make Jasper talk to Rosalie if he doesn't stop moping soon. But that doesn't mean that we need to rush this. It might do more harm than good right now."

"Maybe," Edward said, but his eyes didn't look like he was agreeing with me. Inside, he walked over to the open door, and turned to me. "Do you think I could see you again, Bella?"

Huh? "I'm sure we'll see each other around, Edward. Forks is small, and until this mess is sorted out, I'm sure we'll be seeing quite a lot of each other."

He hesitated a little. "Right. I'll see you around, Bella." He left, closing the door hastily behind him.

I shook my head a little. That was a…weird exchange. And I'm not really sure what to make of Edward Cullen.

***

EPOV

Stupid. Idiot. Moron.

What was I thinking? Asking her out after she had just spent two days trying to comfort her cousin when his long-lost sister appeared out of thin air?

Real smooth, Cullen.

And of course, she had every right to turn me down. I'm a jerk for even thinking of asking her out. I'm being selfish. Rosalie needs me right now. And I'm sure that Jasper needs Bella.

And really, Bella's right. Rosalie hasn't been this bad since she came to Forks. I was honestly scared yesterday, when she refused to get out of bed. Rosalie has _always_ been a morning person. When we were little, she used to pull my covers off of my head at six in the morning on Saturdays. That was the only time I seriously considered regretting that I wasn't an only child.

I had tried to wake her up yesterday, only to get screamed at. Colorfully. I'm pretty sure that I recognized about half the phrases she threw at me from Emmett's rants about Mike Newton and his sick puppyish behavior around Rosalie at basketball games. And I don't even want to know where she got the other half from.

Still, now that I'm thinking about it, this behavior is different from how Rosalie acted when she first moved to Forks. Back then, she literally spent days in her bed, sobbing. Right now she's just…angry. Moping, and angry. The kind of devastation she experienced all those years ago is gone. And I'm glad. I actually think that, if it weren't for the shock of the discovery, and for Jasper's negative reaction to the whole thing, Rosalie would be really happy that she was reunited with her brother. She's still grieving for her parents, of course, but it's more for the memory of them. The parents that she wishes she knew, rather than the parents she knew, loved, and lost.

I winced. Nine years ago, Rosalie's devastation had been absolutely terrifying to deal with. I had had no idea what to do for my new "big sister". For a six year old, a problem that can't be solved with cookies and a hug is a scary thing.

***

"_Rosalie?" _

_Rosalie sniffed into her pillow, rubbing her red eyes and nose against it in an attempt to stifle her sobs._

"_What?"_

"_I—I just wanted to know if you wanted some milk and cookies. Mommy said you wanted to stay in your room right now and I shouldn't bother you, but you're really sad and maybe cookies would make you feel better. They always make me feel better."_

_Rosalie sniffed again. She shook her head into her pillow. Nothing could help her right now. Not even milk and cookies._

"_Are you sure? Mommy's baking right now. Chocolate chip, my favorite. She'll make you some too, but you won't get to eat the dough or the chocolate chips later and they're the best part!"_

_Sobs started welling up in Rosalie's throat. She didn't __**want**__ to talk to anyone right now. She just wanted to stay in bed. And Edward didn't understand. He just wasn't Jasper. She and Jasper used to sneak cookie dough when their mother baked, too. She would always pretend to get mad and take their cookies away, but they'd sneak down after dinner and there would be a big plate of chocolate chip cookies waiting on the dining table with two glasses of milk. Tears started slipping down Rosalie's cheeks at the memory, and she pressed her face into her pillow even harder. She missed Jasper. _

_Rosalie felt the bed dip down slightly next to her, and a small hand patted her hair._

"_I'm sorry, Rosie. I didn't mean to make you so sad." Edward said in a small voice. "I thought cookies would make you happier."_

_Rosalie ignored him, keeping her face buried in the pillow._

_Gently, she felt two small arms wrap around her stomach, and she stiffened. Edward had climbed up next to her on the bed and he was leaning his head into the hollow between her neck and shoulder._

_No one had touched her in days. Esme had tried to hug her at the airport yesterday and she had shied away, uncomfortable with the idea of anyone's arms around her. But either Edward hadn't noticed her discomfort, or he was choosing to ignore it. He snuggled right up to her side, turning his small head so that it rested on the pillow next to Rosalie's, and she could see from his half-closed eyes and deep breathing that he was about to fall asleep._

_Slowly, her body relaxed. Edward was six years old, and he was asleep. There was no way sharing a pillow with him could hurt her in anyway._

_Sighing, Rosalie burrowed herself even further into her bed. She hadn't slept properly in three nights, and was tired out from the turmoil of the past few days. Crying hadn't helped, either. She let her body fall into a calmer, almost sleep-like state, gazing at the pastel pink walls and curtains of the room around her and Edward's messy bronze hair on her pillow, clashing horribly with the baby pink color of the pillowcase. Finally her eyes started to close, and her surroundings blurred until they melded with her dreams, and she finally drifted off into the first peaceful sleep she had had in three days._


	5. Timeline

**Timeline & Other Stuff:**

August, 2006: (Opening of the story)

Rosalie is 18 and about to start her senior year [12th grade] at Forks High.

Emmett is 18 and about to start his senior year [12th grade] at Forks High.

Edward is 15 and about to start his freshman year [9th grade] at Forks High.

Bella is 15 and about to start her freshman year [9th grade] at Forks High.

Jasper is 16 and about to start his sophomore year [10th grade] at Forks High.

_(yet to be introduced) _Alice is 15 and about to start her freshman year [9th grade] at Forks High.

Rosalie moved to Forks when she was 9. Edward was 6, Emmett was 9, Alice was 6, Bella was 6, and Jasper was 7.

Rosalie lives with her Aunt Esme (her father's sister), Uncle Carlisle, and her cousin Edward, their son.

Jasper lives with his Aunt Renée (his mother's first cousin. They were close growing up), Uncle Charlie, and Bella, their daughter and his second cousin.

_Edward and Bella are not related, by blood at least. I think they're something like 3rd cousins by marriage._

Emmett and Alice are siblings. Rosalie and Edward frequently refer to themselves as "brother and sister", as Bella does to Jasper.

I'll update this as more characters get introduced! Thanks to all my reviewers, and especially thanks to **ForeverLinda** for suggesting this.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, everyone! Summer's coming, so hopefully I'll have more time to write then. This chapter is really short, but Bella refused to let me stop the story anywhere else. I'll try and have Chapter 6 out by next week. Enjoy!**

Chapter 5

APOV

"Edward, what the fuck is going on?"

I heard my best friend cough into the phone and I could just picture him, nervously pulling on his collar and running his hands through his hair. You'd think that, hanging out with Rosalie and Emmett, he'd have acquired a more colorful vocabulary. "Alice? Hi? It's nice to talk to you too?"

"Do not give me that, Edward Anthony Cullen; you know exactly what I'm talking about. Explain to me why Emmett left the Swan's half an hour after he showed up, and explain why I spent three hours that night trying to calm Rosalie down after she had an enormous melt down, screaming that Esme and Carlisle were dead. What the hell, Edward? What kind of sick bastard thought up a joke that terrifying? And yes, I know that your parents are okay. I just saw Esme yesterday morning. She came to pick up Rose."

I heard Edward sigh, and I knew that he was running his hands through his hair again. The guy is never allowed to wear hair gel. His hands would be permanently coated in Laureth-23.

"Alice, I can't really explain all this on the phone," he finally said. "Can you meet me at the playground? The one at Forks Elementary?"

"Sure. Half an hour?" Edward was starting to scare me.

"See you then." He hung up.

I swung around, and sat down with a huff on my bed. This was way more than the sick prank I had surmised Lauren Mallory or some other bitch had pulled on Rose. They had always been jealous of her, and I assumed they just went about ten steps too far in their efforts to "get Rose and Emmett to break up". Ha. Fat chance, idiots. Those two have been perfect for each other since they were twelve. Even if neither one of them has realized that yet.

I picked up my bag, and walked downstairs to get my bike from the garage. I cannot wait until Edward starts driving next year. Emmett's never around to take me places!

***

Half an hour later, I was sitting on the swing set, gently swaying as I waited for Edward.

"You do know these seats are for kindergarteners, right?"

I stuck my tongue out and looked up at the person casting a huge shadow over my midget-sized frame.

"You're just jealous because you could never fit in them. Even when we were five."

Edward reached out to tickle me, and I squirmed away, smiling a little. This was our usual banter, so things with Rosalie couldn't be that bad if Edward was still trying to make me laugh.

"Hey, I was a very robust child for my age. Don't make fun of me just because you're short."

I snorted. "Robust? Edward, your nickname was roly-poly for a reason."

"We're not going to talk about that."

"Roly-poly, roly-poly…" I sang as Edward made a swipe at my mouth, trying to clamp it shut. "Emmett gave you that nickname, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Edward grumbled. "And your mom told everyone because she thought it was adorable."

"So did yours," I reminded him. "Anyway, you ought to be thanking him. I wanted to call you cookie monster."

"Alice!" Edward glowered at me.

"What? He was my favorite Sesame Street character. Anyway, what's going on with Rose?"

Edward frowned, and leaned against a tree near the swing set. I stopped swaying and climbed off. "Edward?"

Edward sighed. "Alice, this is going to be a very long and very complicated story and it's going to sound like a soap opera. So I'm only going to tell it once."

"Fine."

***

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

Edward winced. "Really, Alice, you've got to stop doing that. Your mom's already mad at Emmett for teaching you how to do a three sixty off that bike rack you like skateboarding on."

"Edward," I said, completely ignoring his concerns, "you must be kidding."

He shook his head, and looked at the ground. "I'm really not, Alice."

"But…but…things like that just don't happen! Even in _soap operas_, they don't happen!"

"I know."

I blinked a few more times, and turned my glassy eyes towards Edward. "What happens now?"

"I don't know."

We paused, sitting in silence to just absorb everything that had happened in the past three days. I cannot believe that something like this is happening. In Forks. To Rosalie, my future sister-in-law.

"How's Rose?"

"She's…still in bed." Edward refused to look at me.

"Oh, Edward," I groaned. "Still?"

"She won't talk to anybody."

"She needs to talk to Jasper."

Edward ran his fingers through his hair. "I know. But she won't. And he won't talk to her."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"No."

"That just means you don't want to try."

"Don't meddle, Alice. This is about more than my social life or your conviction that Rosalie and Emmett are going to get married. Jasper and Rosalie have been _hurt_, almost beyond belief. Can you imagine loosing Emmett _and_ your parents?"

"No. But I can't imagine shunning Emmett either, even if I suddenly ran into him nine years after the fact in my living room."

"I don't think Jasper understands why Rose left."

"_None_ of us understand why Rose left, Edward!" I shot back at him. "From the way she tells it, Rose just decided to leave one day and Esme sent Carlisle to pick her up, like it was a play date or something. I _know_ Esme, and I know she would never have taken Rose away without a good reason. And I know she would never have left Jasper in Rochester if he was somehow in danger too. So I can't imagine what Rose is doing here in Forks in the first place. I'm very happy that she is here, but things don't add up in my head."

Edward sighed, and ran his hand through his hair again.

"She'll tell you, Ali. Give her some more time."

I bit the inside of my cheek, and leaned into his shoulder. Edward put his arm around me, and we stayed there, against the tree. I thought about Rose, and I thought about Jasper, the mystery brother who couldn't seem to forgive his big sister for leaving him all those years ago.

***

"Jasper Whitlock Hale, if you do not get out of this bed right now, I swear I will let Bella paint over all your civil war posters!"

Jasper lay motionless on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Renée walked towards him. She loved Jasper like a son, but this passive sulking had gone on for far too long.

She ripped the sheets from around him. "Jasper. Get up. It's four in the afternoon. You've been here for two days. Bella needs her room back. You need your life back. Yes, this situation is crazy. I can't imagine what meeting Rosalie after so many years was like. But neglecting to shower isn't going to do you any favors in the long run."

Jasper's face twitched a little, and he turned on his side and buried his face a little further into Bella's pillow.

Renée sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Gently, she raised a hand to her nephew's hair and began stroking it. "Jasper. Please. It's time to stop this."

Jasper shook his head an infinitesimal amount and Renée thought she saw his lower lip quiver.

Almost instinctively, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around the blond-haired boy, relieved when she heard the tiniest of sobs. He needs some sort of respite from all the pain.

"It's alright, honey," she whispered. "You can let it out. There's no one else here. No one but me and you."

Jasper crumpled, curling in around himself on the bed and letting his aunt hold him as he cried out all of his frustration and hurt. He cried for his parents; he cried for his big sister; he cried for the stranger that he had become to himself. He cried because he couldn't _be_ Jazzy anymore and he didn't know how to explain that to anyone.

"It's okay, darling," Renée whispered, rubbing his back and letting him cry. "It's okay."

In the doorway, Bella quietly wrapped her arms around her waist and turned away from the two people she thought needed her most, unseen by either of them.

**A/N: Review!**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is pretty short, but I decided to post what I had; you guys deserve it after waiting so long for another chapter. I wish I could promise you more updates (or even more consistent ones) but RL takes up all of my time these days. I'm still writing though! I've got about 1/2 of the next chapter done, and it'll be up as soon as it can be.**

**This chapter has also not been beta read, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.**

EPOV

I walked into Rosalie's room and froze.

Oh no.

My sister was sitting on her bed, reading a sci-fi book. That in itself was a little strange. But it was nothing compared to the way she was dressed: ratty pajamas that I didn't even know that she still had, and _my_ Star Wars T-shirt from the sixth grade. And her hair was in pigtails. _Pigtails_. On the sides of her head. I'm not sure why—maybe it was the complete lack of make up or attention to dress, but these pigtails look completely different from the ones Rosalie wears to school. And she's curled up on her bed, reading Ender's Game.

"Rosalie?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I never knew what might set her off these days.

"Hi, Edward," she said, turning a page.

"What are you doing?"

She gave me an incredulous stare. "Reading a book."

"Yeah, I know, but…it's seven o'clock. Why are you in pajamas? Why are you wearing a shirt that you made me throw out last year? And why is your hair in those…pigtails on the sides of your head?"

Rosalie stared at me some more and flicked one pigtail over her shoulder. "Stop being so shallow, Edward Cullen."

I bit my lip. This was Rosalie Hale, the girl who insisted on shopping in Seattle or Portland because nothing in Port Angeles was 'original' or 'vintage' enough to 'fit her style'. And she was calling _me_ shallow?

"What are you doing, Rose?"

Rosalie glared at me again. "READING. A. BOOK. Now go away, Edward! Unless you actually have any intelligent comments to make."

I breathed out an exasperated sighed. Fine. This was something Mom, or Alice could deal with. I was done. Rosalie clearly wasn't going to talk or listen to me. "Mom wants to talk to you."

Rosalie turned back to her book. "I'm not going."

"Why?" What?

"She wants me to call Jasper, and I don't want to talk to him."

Hmm. Well, at least this was a start. "Why don't you want to talk to him?"

Rosalie glared at me _again_. What was with all the angry looks I was getting today? "Because I don't. Jasper is _my_ brother, and this is _my_ choice, and I do not want to talk to him right now."

"Rosalie—" I began but paused when I saw the hostile look on her face. "Rosalie, Mom just wants what's best for you. And you know, from what Jasper said when he saw you, it sounds like he doesn't know wh—" I turned my head away and dodged the beanbag Rose had just lobbed at my head.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM, EDWARD!" Rosalie screamed. More beanbags; this time one hit me in the eye and another in the shoulder. Ouch. Who knew beanbags were so hard? The thing felt like there were little rocks inside, pummeling my head and shoulders.

"Rosalie? Edward?" Mom called, coming up the stairs and freezing in the doorway when she saw Rose pelting me with little colored bags of bullets. "Rosalie! Stop that right now! Leave your brother ALONE."

Rose stopped. Well, we all did, when Mom talked like that—all screechy and shouting and with a high-pitched voice that could make your eardrums burst. I love my mom, and she's a great pianist and not a half-bad singer, but when it comes to screaming she can pierce your eardrums faster than a knifepoint.

"Rosalie," my mom said in a calmer voice. "Change out of those clothes, and come downstairs in ten minutes. Edward, go eat dinner."

Rosalie glanced at our mother, and I guess whatever she saw was enough to tell her not to argue. I left. Mom may be sweet most of the time, but she can be scarier than Rosalie when she wants to be.

* * *

RPOV

"Mom, where are we going?"

"You'll see." Esme's face was grimly determined, with her lips pressed tightly into a thin line and her eyes focused intently on the road. She kept looking around, as if afraid of missing an exit.

"Now talk," Esme commanded me, when we finally turned onto the highway and she put the car on cruise control. "Tell me why you won't call Jasper."

I looked out the window. I could feel my aunt's eyes on the back of my head, watching me. Edward has the same eyes. He might have gotten Carlisle's face and pale skin, but the rest of his coloring—his hair and eyes and tendency to blush—is all Esme. Although unlike her son, Esme Cullen isn't one to second-guess herself or beat around the bush.

"I don't want to tell him about Royce." There. Make it blunt. Not that it makes this conversation any easier.

Esme considered that for a moment. "Why?"

"Because I obviously don't want to think about what happened to me!" I exclaimed. Really. Why else would I be avoiding this conversation?

"But you're thinking about it now."

"I don't want to TALK about it! I don't want to explain everything in detail! I don't want to tell him exactly what happened, and I don't want to explain why I had to move to Forks!"

There was silence as Esme waited for me to continue.

"Rosalie," she finally said, "Jasper deserves to know. I realize that this is your choice, and you are the one who went through something so traumatic, but Jasper lost his sister. He deserves to know why."

"No!" I shrieked. "This happened to _me_. This only affects _me_. _I'm_ the one who got hurt. I'm the one who got sent away. This has nothing to do with anyone else!"

"And Jasper lost his sister. I talked to Renée, Bella's mother—"

I rolled my eyes. Again with Bella.

"I didn't tell her anything, of course, but from what she said it sounds like Jasper doesn't know anything about where you went or why you left. Lillian told him that you had gone away for awhile and that she didn't know when you would come back. I don't think she ever gave him an explanation."

"That's impossible," I said. "He brought up Royce. He knows this has something to do with him. And besides, what does it matter? He's not concerned—"

"If we sent Edward away," Esme interrupted, "and didn't tell you where he went or why he left, would you feel like you deserved to have that information?"

I was quiet. Edward…I love Edward. I would want to make sure that he's okay.

"That's different," I finally said. "I'm eighteen. Jasper was seven—"

"But he's sixteen now. And I think that if you want to be considered his sister, you're going to have to trust him the way you trust Edward."

I slouched down in the seat and pulled my knees to my chest. "I'm not going to tell him everything. He doesn't need to know the details."

"If you prefer." Esme's tone was stern, but I knew that she was happy to get some sort of compromise out of me.

"And I'm only talking to Jasper," I continued. "Alone."

"That's fine." Esme switched lanes and took an exit for Lake Pleasant, then turned around and got back on the highway.

"What?!" I exclaimed. "We were never actually going anywhere?"

"Well, no," Esme said, looking at me as if it were obvious. "We already talked about Jasper. Why else did you think we took a drive?"

* * *

I insisted that Esme turn back around and at least comfort me with food. An hour and a ridiculously big portion of Pasta Parmesan later I was happy. Esme was happy too. She convinced me to talk to my brother.

I really didn't want to talk to Jasper. What happened happened, and I hated Royce for what he did to me. But it's done now. It's in the past. I don't want to bring it up again.

And this will never stop with Jasper. Alice will want to know, Emmett will want to know. Their curiosity will be impossible to get away from.

And I'm just not ready for that. And I shouldn't have to be. This is _my_ secret. I don't see why I should have to share it with anyone else.


End file.
